Along with herbs, fresh and dried, salt and spices (which include black pepper) are indispensable for adding flavor or enhancing flavor in almost any dish you can think of.
Salt is basically sodium chloride. But it’s not as simple as that. Though all salts are created naturally — in the rock and seas of the earth — they are not created equal. Common table salt is mined, milled, refined, and sometimes “enhanced” with iodine and other ingredients into small, free-flowing grains that dissolve faster than most other salts. But consistency has a downside: the flavor of table salt is harsh, with iodine the predominant mineral taste. Kosher salt, a relatively inexpensive alternative, has a clean, slightly minerally taste, and is my go-to salt for most everything.
Then there is sea salt, which contains subtler flavors (usually described as “briny,” “metallic,” or “earthy”), from the famous fleur de sel from Brittany in France and Maldon from England to literally thousands of kinds made all over the world, most locally. (And then there are the absurdly expensive boutique salts, which should send you running in the other direction.) Generally, in salt, the more trace minerals (mostly magnesium, calcium, and potassium) there are, the less sodium chloride there is, which is why many sea salts taste less “salty” than table and kosher salt. It’s worth a quick side-by-side taste test to see which salts you prefer; if you doubt you can tell the difference, you’ll probably be surprised.
Because the quantity of salt in food is largely a matter of personal taste, my recipes almost always call for simply “salt” in the ingredient list. This frees you to use whichever salt you like best, in whichever quantity you enjoy. But I don’t totally leave you in the dark. The instructions suggest when to season with salt — usually more than once during the process and definitely at the end — and give you an idea how much to add with words like “pinch” or “sprinkle.”
I do specify exact measurements in rare dishes where a precise amount of salt really makes a difference.
The average American eats more than 3 pounds of spices a year, twice as much as twenty years ago, with significant upticks in the purchase of once-exotic spices like paprika, anise, cumin, fennel, turmeric, and dried and ground chiles (see pages 226 to 227 for more on chiles). And I’m glad to say, there’s no end in sight.
I suggest you buy spices from somewhere that either specializes in them or sells them in bulk, where they’ll be cheaper and fresher. That generally means Asian, Indian, or Latin markets, gourmet shops, or online.
Whole spices have huge advantages over preground: They tend to be of higher quality to begin with. They keep much better. You can toast them at the last minute, which helps bring out their flavor. And the last-minute grinding means you get all that flavor; it doesn’t dry out over the course of months (or, if you’re like most of us, years) of storage.
Having said that, we have to acknowledge that almost everyone uses preground spices; they’re just too convenient not to. Still, I’d say toast and grind whole spices when you can. Even if “when you can” means every fifth time, even if it means every tenth time, it’s worth it.
When I can, I toast whole spices just before grinding, or when they’re used as a finishing seasoning. Gentle warming activates and releases their oils and makes the spices aromatic. If your spices are big, like cinnamon sticks or nutmeg, break them up or crush into pieces in whatever way you need to — with your fingers, the back of a knife, a hammer, the bottom of a pan, whatever. If they’re encased in pods, like cardamom, lightly crush the pods and remove the seeds; discard the husks.
Set a dry skillet over medium-high heat. Add the spices and cook, swirling the pan or stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, for just a minute or 2; you’ll know when they’re ready because their aroma will become far more pronounced. Remove them from the pan immediately, because the spices will easily burn and turn bitter. If they do, toss them out and start again.
Whiz the spice or spices in a clean coffee or spice grinder. (You can use a cheap one, which costs ten bucks; purists use a mortar and pestle.) Unplug it, then wipe it out as best you can. If you’re feeling really energetic (or you want no lingering trace of that spice), grind a little rice to a powder after removing the spices; the rice powder will remove the seasonings when you dump it out.
Ground spices stay potent for a few weeks while the flavor of whole spices will remain vibrant for months, up to a year, sometimes even longer. Keep both away from sunlight, moisture, and heat in a tightly covered opaque container or in a jar in a dark place. The cooler, the better, though the refrigerator is not ideal because it’s too humid. Some people recommend storing spices in the freezer, though I’ve never had the need to.